


wounded

by sunflower_drop



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, and blood, but like not bc they shy, ish, mountain man deserves so much love, pre-game, teen for mention of his executions, they're kinda flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 07:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_drop/pseuds/sunflower_drop
Summary: the first time you clean Muriel’s wounds.// Pre-game; when Muriel was still the Scourge of the South. Muriel’s POV; gender-neutral apprentice





	wounded

Muriel’s head hangs low as he walks out of the Colosseum, ignoring the suffocating applause of the crowd and the bastard of a Count shouting about yet another victory. Studying the blood on his hands, he feels sick to his stomach knowing that another person was dead because of him. He tries to remind himself again that the people who enter the Colosseum are convicted criminals sentenced to death--that they _ deserved _it, but in his heart, he knows that they don’t. 

The shock of his actions eventually wear out, and the fresh lacerations among his already scarred body make themselves known. He doesn’t dare hobble though; he knows better than to show weakness when the Count is still near. The last time Muriel had done so, the Count made himself clear what was going to happen to Asra in full detail if Muriel “embarrassed” him again. His best warrior isn’t allowed to even ponder the thought of limping, much less drag his feet. 

Somehow, Muriel manages to make it to the hidden room in the Colosseum where Asra was waiting to heal his wounds. The sight of his only companion safe from the Count’s threats was more than enough to calm him down. Except for this time, another figure appeared to be standing near Asra. Getting ready for any trouble that you may bring, Muriel stands straight up and glowers to give off the illusion that he desired to harm others. 

You take no notice of his threatening stature and appearance; instead, you give a small smile at his entrance. His bravado almost wavers at the unexpected kindness of a stranger, but he holds his ground, only taking it down a notch when he notices that Asra’s hand is resting on your shoulder.

“Muriel!” Asra greets, “This is my apprentice, Y/N.” At the mention of your name, you give Muriel a small wave, making him flush the tiniest bit. “Lucio has given me more tasks than I can handle, so for the time being my apprentice will have to be the one to take care of you.” 

Muriel’s eyes widen at the thought of a person whom he only met a few minutes prior touching him in places he deemed too intimate (which was practically his entire being). “It’s f-fine,” he mutters. “Just let the wounds heal on their own.”

He regrets saying that as soon as he sees the frown on Asra’s face. He begins to grow mad at himself for upsetting Asra, as well as at the Count for overworking Asra. “Muriel,” Asra starts again--this time as a whisper only for their ears. You take the hint and settle on the cot behind them as if waiting for your master’s next instruction. You try your hardest to focus on anything but their conversation to assure to Muriel that you were simply there to help, not harm. 

“Muriel,” Asra repeats. “I would never put you in harm’s way. I’ve known Y/N for quite a while now, and they would never wish to hurt anyone. I really do want to heal you myself, but Lucio has me running petty errands for him that exacerbates my energy immensely. In the meantime, I think both of you would benefit from each other’s company.” 

Muriel attempts to swallow the lump in his throat, taking his time before replying. “But they’ll have to _ touch _ me.” The way he says _touch_ makes it clear that the very idea of doing so was shaking him to the core. After all, who would be willing to touch someone as brutish as himself? 

Asra’s frown deepens as he slowly begins to pat Muriel’s back. “They want to help you. They are not scared of you. They do not wish harm upon you. Muriel, _ please _ give them the chance to heal you.” Muriel closes his eyes, debating with himself on what to do next. 

* * *

He decides on letting you heal him--for Asra’s sake more than for his. It is much later when he voices his decision, as though it took all he had to utter a few words in agreeance. Asra finally gives a small smile as he breathes a sigh of relief, giving Muriel confirmation that he was doing the right thing. “I’ll leave you two to it then,” Asra states, taking his exit. “Take care.” 

Muriel looks at you fully for the first time since entering the room. As you two stare at each other, he wonders if your kindness was just a long con ordered by the Count--as if you had only become Asra’s apprentice to lure Muriel into a false sense of security before the Count comes rushing in to ruin everything once again. If so, you were doing an impressive job. 

“Take a seat, please,” you ask quietly, careful not to startle Muriel even though he is aware of your presence. Muriel takes notice of how your words didn’t sound like a command but rather a request. The jarring difference between the Count's and your tone is enough for him to realize how foolish and dramatic his earlier thought was. Still, his careful demeanor told him to sit as far away as possible from you. 

Although the distance made it a bit harder for you to complete your task of cleaning and healing his wounds, you didn’t complain. Instead, you took out medical supplies to wipe away his blood and disinfect his wounds. Slowly, you brought your hands near Muriel, silently asking for permission to touch him. At first, he flinches, causing you to immediately lower your hands, and he curses at himself in his head. 

But you didn’t seem bothered in the least bit. Again you slowly raise your hands, this time speaking aloud what your next actions were. The serene sound of your voice steadily calms Muriel down as you work your way down his body. Today was a long day for him, marked obviously by the countless mutilations. Even by the twentieth wound, you were still asking him for permission to touch him. Your constant requests assured him that you really were just trying to heal him. 

“Now, I’m going to close your wounds with magic. Is it okay for me to touch you directly?” Muriel doesn’t trust his voice around you, so all he offers is a curt nod. Giving another small smile, you continue healing him and ignoring his flushed face. Though you thought it was plenty cute, you didn’t want to embarrass him more. Attempting to burn the image of his shy, blushed face into your mind, you finish healing him faster than you would like to. 

Letting go of him, both of you suddenly notice the small space separating your thighs. You both jerk away from each other, resting on opposite sides of the cot and decidedly saying nothing to one another for a while. The awkward silence turns into a peaceful one when Muriel realizes the violent cheers of the crowd and blood-curdling screams of the Count are nowhere to be heard. 

It was finally just quiet. 

* * *

He almost forgets about your presence, causing him to flinch slightly when you speak up. “Thank you,” you say simply. Those words are far from simple, however. Shouldn’t he be the one thanking you? You were the one who had to put up with his ridiculous aversion to human contact. You were the one who had healed him. You were the one who had _ stayed _. 

Rather than voicing his many questions, he settles for one. “Why?” 

Turning to look him in the eyes, you reply, “For trusting me.” 

Again, Muriel feels his face flushing. The way you stare at him; how deep your eyes pierce his causes the blush to reach down to his shoulders. “W-why are you thanking me for s-something so stupid?” he barely manages to ask, keeping his inquiry of why he was blushing so much around you to himself. 

You frown slightly before replying, “It’s not stupid. Your emotions matter, Muriel.” He shudders at the way you say his name; as if it would break at the slightest touch. You treated even his name with care. “_ Thank you _,” you repeated with much more emphasis, “for trusting me enough to heal you.” 

A million thoughts rush through Muriel’s head as he tries to think of an appropriate response to all of which you just said. Nothing feels right. He wasn’t as good as expressing his thoughts or feelings. Feeling rather shameful, he lamely utters, “You’re welcome.” 

He expects you to get upset at him, but you surprise him again with a smile. “Any time.” He feels a pang of sadness when you stand up and begin to clean up. Uncharacteristically, he nearly asks you to stay with him. Although he practically knows sod all about you, he does know that he likes your company for whatever strange reason. Usually, he would have asked you to leave as soon as your hand left his body, but he didn’t. And that scares him more than weapons ever could. 

Maybe it was a good thing you were leaving. 

The thought immediately perishes in his mind. Muriel doesn’t dare say goodbye, afraid that it would somehow turn your temporary departure into a permanent one. He settles for looking longingly at your back as you leave, unaware that you held the same thoughts as he. 

You were braver though. Turning back, your eyes flicker between the ground and Muriel before announcing, “I live with Asra at the magic shoppe in the city.” You pause to gauge his reaction, but he offers you nothing. Swallowing your nerves, you tread on, “If you’re ever er-you know in the city, I would love for you to uh-visit me.” This time, he offers you eyes so wide that you fear they may spring out of his sockets. 

Frightened that you drove him back into his corner of solitude, you open your mouth to backpedal. “But you don’t have to! I was just thinking that it would be nice to see you if you were close by! Don’t feel like you have to do anything for my sake though! I-”

“-Okay,” he cuts you off. It’s your turn to blush furiously as your mouth just continues to open and close, your mind still processing that Muriel isn’t opposed to the idea of seeing you again. 

You snap your mouth close and turn back to leave for real this time. “See you later, then,” you laugh nervously, hoping you had some dignity left. 

When Muriel is sure of your absence, he allows himself to give the faintest of smiles. "See you later," he repeats quietly. Hopefully, Asra was right about you. 

**Author's Note:**

> mildly considering turning this into a series with my apprentice, but i know that i won't ever finish it bc im afraid of commitment :'( also i hate proofreading with a passion so y'all gonna read my first draft bs. 
> 
> practically wrote this in one sitting after reading the muriel update 5 times bc the love for mountain man is v strong. let me know if a series is something you guys would like to read though, and i'll probably do it bc im weak for feedback


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